


paint the town (and all that jazz).

by lordvoldyfarts



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fifty AUs Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordvoldyfarts/pseuds/lordvoldyfarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura is looking for adventure.</p><p>It finds her in the form of an alluring flapper named Carmilla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	paint the town (and all that jazz).

**Author's Note:**

> A 1920s!au. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies. I took some liberties.

It’s the energy of the underground that attracts her initially.

For years, she would spend her nights with her arms folded on the sill of her window, staring at the bright lights of the outside. Wondering what it what be like to part of it all.

She’s eighteen the first time she sneaks out. She’s dressed in a long white gown and she might as well have the word ‘naïve’ inked on her forehead.

The streets are…quieter than she expects them to be and she almost turns on her heel and goes home. Almost.

She is halfway down an unfamiliar road when she hears it. Giggling. Laughter. She takes a few more steps forward and the smell starts to hit her. Booze. And lots of it judging by the potency of the scent.

There is a faint light coming from an establishment on the left side of the road. She hesitates. She shouldn’t be doing this. Not only is she breaking the law but she’s breaking every single one of her father’s rules. He would have her head on a silver platter if he knew she was doing this.She wants to turn around and run. He never has to find out she’s snuck out, not if she just turns around and goes home _now_.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to go in Pet?” Says a voice from the cover of darkness. She jumps, her back going straight. Her eyes are wide and suddenly, she’s terrified. That voice could belong to any number of shady characters. She turns in the direction of the darkness.

“Show yourself. I-I may be small but I know how to use my fists as a weapon!” She exclaims, curling her hands into said fists. She only gets a low, guttural laugh in response. Not long after, one pale foot clad in a high heel appears out of the darkness. Then a full leg, immodestly covered in a short fringed skirt. Then half of a torso clad in a black, skin tight, reflective dress. Then an exposed arm. And finally a face. Her hair is curled tightly against her head and lips are lathered in bright red rouge. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are dark. She possesses an unsettling sort of beauty that would knock any sane person off of their feet. She’s out of the darkness completely now and her pale, nearly translucent skin practically glows in sharp contrast with the darkness surrounding them.

“Want to tell me your name, Pet? We ought to at least exchange pleasantries before you knock me down.” She mocks, her eyebrows raised and a smirk pulling at the right side of her mouth.

“I-I’m Laura.” She says as the other girl’s eyes rake the length of her body. Her gaze is so intense it feels as if Laura’s whole body is being lit on fire. The girl takes a few steps closer to Laura, her hips moving tantalizingly slow. Her eyes have not left Laura’s body. She reaches a hand out and takes a piece of Laura’s hair and drags it through her fingers. She looks up and makes eye contact.

“Beautiful name. Sweet.” She purrs. “I bet you’re sweet.” She continues. There is barely half an arm’s length between the two of them now and Laura feels as if her heart is about to beat out of her chest. There are goose pimples popping up on every inch of her exposed skin. Laura jerks her head away, attempting to put some space between them.

“A-aren’t you going to tell me your name? It seems only fair.” Laura counters, ignoring the girls (slightly) unsettling words. Another sultry laugh comes from deep in the girls throat. She meets Laura’s gaze, and because of their proximity, she can see that the girl’s pupils are blown wide, only a ring of brown is surrounding the dark center.

“Well in the interest of fairness…” She replies huskily. “It’s Carmilla.” Laura turns the name over in mind a few times and decides that it fits the seductive beauty who seems to have no concept of personal space.

“It’s uh, very lovely to meet you.” Laura stutters out, a dizzy feeling starting to take over.

“I can _assure_ you the feeling is mutual.” Carmilla responds, her eyes once again traveling the length of Laura’s body. Laura swears she forgets how to breathe whenever Carmilla’s eyes wander lower than her neck. “So _Laura_ ,” She pauses, connecting their gazes. Laura shivers. Her name sounds utterly _dirty_ coming from her mouth.  “What brings a doll like you out so late at night? Don’t you know this is when danger stops lurking and starts attacking?” Carmilla comments, the words rolling off of her tongue slowly, like an automobile teetering on the edge of a cliff. Laura opens her mouth to answer but suddenly, her reasons seem foolish. Like if she tells Carmilla her true motivations for wandering the streets in the darkness, her only response would be to laugh and call her naïve. So she evades the question.

“I could certainly ask you the same question. If I recall correctly, it was you who was lurking about like some sort of lofty criminal.” Laura retorts. Carmilla throws her head back with another laugh.

“I’ve already told you, Pet.” She answers all too vaguely for Laura’s taste. Laura narrows her eyes. Why is Carmilla so interested in her? It seems all too queer. “You have to answer me, doll. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is you’re looking for.”  She’s close again. So close that Laura can feel her breath against her lips. Gosh. Maybe this is all she needs. Maybe she doesn’t even need to find any giggle water to feel intoxicated.

“I uh,” She pauses, deciding in that instant to drop the act. Carmilla, it seems, would be able to see right through her. “I was looking for a joint. I’ve never been to one before. I wanted to see what the fuss was about.” She admits, color climbing up her neck and into her cheeks. Carmilla grins and with all of her teeth bared, she appears exceptionally catlike.

“That’s what I thought.” Carmilla brings a hand up back to her hair, this time twisting a few strands around her fingers. “You’re so….soft. Innocent. Like the world’s never touched you.” She moves in closer, still not releasing the strands of her hair. “I adore that. Your sweet, innocent simplicity. It’s fascinating.” Carmilla drawls. Laura’s heart is beating so quickly she swears that at any moment it is bound to leap from her chest and onto the concrete ground below them. She feels warm and her mouth is dry. How can someone she’s never met before have such a profound effect on her? She wants to respond. Say something witty and charming but nothing smart comes to mind so instead she stays silent. Her silence doesn’t seem to bother Carmilla, who finally releases her hair and drags her free hand down Laura’s arm. She grasps her hand and Laura nearly jumps out of her skin. This is the closest she’s ever been to anybody and she knows that this ought to feel wrong but it doesn’t. Carmilla is full on smirking now and Laura knows that her discomfort must bring some kind of pleasure to her. “Calm down, Pet. I won’t hurt you.” She says and there is an unspoken _yet_ that hangs in the silence that follows.

She knows she should run. She should pull her hand away from this….this devilish woman’s clutch and run for cover but she doesn’t. Carmilla’s grip isn’t too tight, it would be easy enough to escape, but Laura finds that she doesn’t want to. She’s curious. Carmilla seems like the person who could show her a brand new world. One she is more than ready to see.

Carmilla is staring at her with that every present smirk and raised eyebrow. They haven’t moved and it occurs to Laura that Carmilla is waiting for permission before they go anywhere. So Laura nods.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Laura concedes and Carmilla’s smirk stretches into a smile.

“You won’t regret this.” She says, turning and pulling Laura in the direction of the light she noticed earlier in the evening.

However, they walk straight past it. Laura’s brow furrows in question and Carmilla glances back in time to catch it. “It’s the decoy house. If the coppers come rolling down the street, they’ll search the place with lights. Once they find it to be empty, they won’t go searching any further. It also it gives us fair warning to pipe down if someone knocks on the front door.” She explains. The logic behind it is sound and Laura finds herself grateful for Carmilla’s intervention. She would have walked right up to the door and knocked.

Carmilla leads them a little bit further to something that looks akin to a garage. The door is rickety and wooden and Laura thinks that there’s no way that can be secure. But Carmilla knocks five times in an obvious pattern and a few short seconds later, the door opens.

There is a tall brunette man guarding the door and he eyes Laura appreciatively. Carmilla, noticing the glance, steps in front of her and grins, almost mockingly, at the guard. “Keep your eyes in your head, William. This one’s mine.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. It surprises Laura. In any other setting, a woman speaking that way to a man would have gotten her backhanded at the very least. The man moves to the side of the doorframe to let the pair pass. She’s so taken aback by the exchange she forgets to be concerned about the possessive nature of Carmilla’s comment.

Once they’re down the steps, it’s as if they’re submerged in smoke. The whole room is foggy with it and the scent of booze is overwhelming. There’s a faint sound of jazz music coming from the front of the space and Laura’s ears perk up. Gosh, she loves the sound of it. Her father never lets her listen to it. He would always shut off the phonograph whenever she would dare to play it. Whenever Laura finds herself alone in their large home, she plays her jazz records loudly, allowing the alluring sound to overwhelm her. It’s a treat to hear the music live. Carmilla suddenly stops. She unlocks their hands but uses her now free hand to touch Laura’s hip lightly. She moves in close and whispers in Laura’s ear, “Stay here. I’ll be back in a pinch.”  Laura nods and Carmilla removes her hand. She turns away in a flurry of fringe. It, again, occurs to Laura that she should be afraid. She shouldn’t be listening to these orders. This woman has no power of over her. But she wants to listen. She wants to obey.

Now that Laura is alone, she is able to take in her surroundings.

It’s busy, as she had always imagined. There are all different kinds of people here. Men in suits with fat cigars tucked between even fatter fingers. Ladies dressed identically to Carmilla. Women of all backgrounds, gathered around a poker table, cards tucked between their fingers. People lighting up fags and mixing smoke as they lean in close to each other.

She stands on her tip-toes and tries to get a view of the singer, who is still crooning out lovely music, but there are too many people standing in front of her to get a clear picture.

She turns her head back to the direction that Carmilla walked away in and jumps when she finds a person standing directly in front of her.

She’s tall, this one, and she’s dressed a lot like Carmilla. Her long, lean legs are exposed and she wears a red, fringe-skirted dress. Her bright orange hair is pinned up and she wears a headband that matches her dress. She has a cigarette between two of her fingers, the ashes falling on the tops of her black heeled shoes.

“My, my, my I didn’t realize they made life-size porcelain dolls. How much does one of you cost?” The girl says and Laura doesn’t know whether to be nervous or flattered. She smiles anyway. She opens her mouth to respond but a voice from her left beats her to it.

“She isn’t for sale.” Carmilla nearly growls out, handing Laura a glass filled with copper colored liquid before snaking an arm around her waist almost protectively. The ginger girl scoffs, her grin quickly turning upside down. “I suggest you scurry along, _Danielle_. Wouldn’t want that gentleman you were practically necking with over there to get too lonely.” She finishes, her dismissal carrying the air of a threat. The girl, Danielle, scowls even further. She gives one more look to Laura and leans down to whisper in her ear,

“If you get bored of her, I’ll be over by the stage.” She stands up straight and turns to walk away, giving Laura one more meaningful glance before she disappears into the crowd. Laura’s eyes follow her all the way.

Laura’s attention is brought back to Carmilla when she hears the girl muttering, “Stupid mutt.”

Laura is suddenly very keenly aware of the hand that is still resting on her hip. Carmilla is so, so close to her and their proximity is almost dizzying. Laura turns to face Carmilla, who is glaring intensely into the crowd.

“I’m sorry if I’m being intrusive,” Laura begins, bringing Carmilla’s eyes back to her own. “But why exactly were you being so cruel to that girl? She was only being nice.” Laura finishes. Carmilla scoffs.

“You think that was being nice? She was trying to steal you.” Carmilla jerks Laura closer, almost causing the drink in Laura’s hand to spill. “And I don’t feel like sharing tonight.” Carmilla whispers, her lips just inches from Laura’s. Carmilla’s eyes are fixated on her mouth. Laura pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and bites down. Hard. Carmilla’s eyes flutter closed and a light laugh escapes her mouth. “You’re dangerous, Pet. Anyone ever tell you that?” It’s Laura’s turn to laugh. Dangerous is the last word anyone has ever used to describe her. Dreamy and naïve, maybe but never dangerous. Laura shakes her head.

“Never.” Laura responds. Carmilla’s eyes are still on her lips. Deciding that if Carmilla is staring, Laura might has well give her something to stare _at._ Daringly, Laura’s tongue jets out and she licks her bottom lip. She swears she feels Carmilla shiver against her. Carmilla brings her mouth up and dangles it just in front of Laura’s ear.

“A doll like you ought to come with a warning label.” She whispers. Her hand slides from her lip to her lower back. Her mouth is still hovering dangerously close to her ear. Laura is flushed, color covering her face completely. She lets out a nervous laugh that seems to break the spell as Carmilla suddenly jerks away from her. Laura finds that she misses the warmth Carmilla provided as soon as she’s pulled away.

Laura is staring questioningly up at Carmilla, who just gestures with the hand that is not attached to Laura’s back to the the drink in Laura’s hand. “Drink up, buttercup. This is what you came out here for.” Carmilla remarks. Laura looks down at the liquid. It _is_ why she came out. Her heart is racing and Carmilla’s eyes are wide in anticipation. She raises the glass to her lips. She takes a quick sip and lowers it again. Carmilla sighs. “That was barely a nip, Pet. You can do better than that.” Carmilla urges. Her eyebrows are raised and it almost seems like she’s challenging her. And Laura does hate to back down from a challenge. She brings the glass back up to her lips and this time she doesn’t bring it down until every last drop of liquid is gone. Carmilla’s eyes are wide and glistening with mirth. She takes the glass back from Laura. “ _Much_ better.” Carmilla starts to move, leading Laura across the room. “C’mon Pet. Let’s find a seat.” She says and Laura allows herself to be led. It takes a few minutes but they finally find an empty seat near the back of the room. The music is still loud and Laura can swear her head is spinning. And this time, it’s not because of Carmilla’s breath on her face.

Carmilla’s hand is finally off of Laura’s back as she gestures for Laura to sit first. The space is small and Laura wonders how on earth they’re both going to fit. She gathers her skirt underneath her legs and sits, crossing her ankles delicately. Carmilla sits down next to her, the space between them nonexistent. They’re smashed up against each other, connected from shoulder to knee. Carmilla sets the glass she’s still carrying down on the ground, freeing both of her hands. The hand closest to Laura finds its way to her dress covered knee. Laura jumps and Carmilla leans in close to her. “No need to be afraid, Pet. I told you I won’t hurt you.” Carmilla reassures and there’s something…soft in her voice that makes Laura believe her. She relaxes her shoulders and leans back into the cushion behind them. Carmilla’s hand doesn’t leave her knee.

There is a silence that falls between them and Laura searches for something to say. Carmilla is staring and her fingers are starting to rub gently on the inside of her knee. Laura feels as if electricity is running through veins. The combination of Carmilla’s touch and the liquor makes her feel as if she’s floating. Laura turns to her, leaning into her this time, and says, “I like the way your hand feels.” It’s one of the boldest things she’s ever said and almost as soon as the words are out of her mouth, she regrets them.

This isn’t who she is. She isn’t some kind of reckless girl out looking for trouble. She’s a good girl. She listens to her father and she knows which forks to use at formal dinners. She’s innocent and untouched. Or, she _was_. She’s not at all sure she can be considered _pure_ after the way Carmilla has touched her.

She looks away from Carmilla, her face flushing completely with color. Nearly as soon as the blush fully coats her face, she feel fingers dancing underneath her chin followed by Carmilla gently turning her head back to her.

Laura once again finds herself only mere inches from Carmilla. She’s looking directly into Carmilla’s eyes and suddenly every reservation, every doubt she had about her actions this evening fly out the window. All that matters is Carmilla and the look in her eyes.

“Don’t look away.” She whispers. And Laura can’t. She’s hooked. Carmilla’s fingers drag along Laura’s jawline and up to cup her cheek. Her thumb strokes Laura’s cheekbone and the touch sends a shiver down her spine. Laura’s eyes flutter closed. Both of Carmilla’s hands are on Laura, the hand that grasped at Laura’s knee still there and rubbing circles on her lower thigh. There is less than an inch between them. Laura wonders if Carmilla’s touch is charged with some kind of electricity because the sparks Laura is feeling where Carmilla is touching her are not natural.

The hand that rests on Laura’s face drags down just slightly, Carmilla’s thumb tracing the lines of Laura’s lips.

“In all of my years, I’ve seen thousands of lips but none have looked as soft and wonderful as yours.” Carmilla murmurs. Laura smiles and suddenly, Carmilla’s thumb is replaced with her mouth.

The kiss is gentle at first. Just Carmilla’s mouth gently touching Laura’s. It doesn’t take more than mere moments for that to change. Laura’s hand finds its way to the back of Carmilla’s neck and she tries to pull them even closer together. Carmilla’s hand slips from Laura’s cheek into her hair. Her fingers are interlaced between locks of hair and she grasps. Hard. Laura gasps into Carmilla’s mouth, her lips separating. Carmilla takes advantage and drags her tongue across Laura’s bottom lip, biting it gently.

Carmilla is in full control of the kiss and it’s power Laura is happy to surrender.

Carmilla’s tongue is swirling around hers. Laura thinks that if darkness and adventure had a taste, it would be Carmilla.

Carmilla’s hand is high on inner thigh now, high enough that if she moved her thumb any higher, she would be able to feel _exactly_ what this kiss was doing to Laura.

Carmilla bites down on Laura’s lower lip. Laura moans. Loudly. Carmilla releases Laura’s lip and and laughs lowly. They are only separated for mere moments because Carmilla quickly dips her head and attaches her lips to Laura’s neck. Laura leans it back to give Carmilla easier access. She plants kisses all over Laura’s neck and chin. She pauses, mouth hovering just over Laura’s pulse point, before she starts to suck.

Laura’s head is thrown back in total ecstasy. She thinks that there must be something laced in Carmilla’s kiss because Laura swears she’s in heaven.

Carmilla pulls off of Laura’s neck a moment later and kisses back up to her mouth, where she gives Laura a few more gentle kisses. She leans forward so they’re connected at the forehead. One hand is still entangled in Laura’s hair while the other sits at a dangerous spot on her inner thigh.

Laura is out of breath and her brain has yet to process…everything so she sits in silence. Carmilla is smiling, a soft grin that makes Laura’s heart skip a beat.

“You taste heavenly.” She whispers. Laura smiles.

“As do you.” She replies, a soppy grin overtaking her face.

They stay like that for quite some time, until Carmilla offers to get Laura another drink.

And then another.

They spend a majority of the night tangled in each other. Half of the time, Carmilla has Laura pressed against a wall in a dark corner, Laura’s leg hooked around Carmilla’s hips and Carmilla stroking the top of her thigh beneath her dress.

Carmilla has a strange fascination with Laura’s neck, which Laura doesn’t mind because she enjoys the sensation of Carmilla’s lips attached to it quite a bit.

The last thing Laura remembers about the evening is slipping into a cloaked room, gigging, her fingers laced with Carmilla’s.

* * *

Laura wakes the next morning in her own bed. She is still in her gown from the night before. Her hair is a mess and when she looks in the mirror, she finds bruises covering nearly every space on her neck.

She smiles, fondly and giddily, when she remembers last nights events. When she remembers Carmilla.

She searches for any sign of the flapper in her room but there is none. Laura doesn’t remember how she got home and into her own bed but she can guess that Carmilla had something to do with it.

She locks her door and tells her father that she’s fallen ill and he must not enter her room, lest he catch whatever she has been infected with.

She sits on the bench in front of her mirror, hair to one side, and she stares at the marks on her neck, wondering when she’ll see the culprit behind them again.

It takes nearly a week for the bruises to fade away and she’s barely managed to keep her father from seeing them. They eat dinner together the first night that Laura feels “comfortable” enough to exit her room and she is all jitters. She plans on sneaking out again tonight. To see Carmilla again. To relive that night. To feel the wonderful sensations over again.

She wears a shorter dress this time and her hair is tied back.

She arrives at the familiar door and she knocks, in the same pattern that Carmilla had a week prior.

The door swings open and the same stocky man is standing on the other side. He lets her in with a wicked grin.

She knows her way around this time and she situates herself in front of the stage, drink in hand, and she waits.

Laura goes through three drinks, four suitors, and one Danielle before she gives up.

There has been no sign of Carmilla all night.

She asks the redhead where her alluring friend was. Danielle gives her a sympathetic look.

“She left a few nights back. Disappeared in the middle of the day. Didn’t tell no-one where she was headed.” Laura sighs. She should have known. She makes her excuses and she leaves soon after, her heart feeling extraordinarily heavy and tears welling in her eyes.

About two weeks after Laura’s last visit to the speakeasy, she receives a package.

It’s large and the only thing written on it is her name in large, loopy script.

She finds it on the edge of her bed. Curious, she tears it open.

Inside she finds a white bow. Familiar. She runs to her closet and pulls the white dress she wore the night she met Carmilla. After a careful inspection, she finds that it is missing a white lace bow.

Inside of the box there is an envelope. Inside there is a note that reads: Wear it. Tonight.

There’s no signature, only a bright red lipstick stamp on the bottom of the notecard.

Laura’s heart swells.

She knows what this means.

Her father calls her down for breakfast and she hides the bow and the note in the back of her closet.

She goes about her business during the day, a grin glued to her face. Once night hits she puts on the familiar white dress.

She sneaks out the window and follows her route from the first night.

She stops in the alley and she waits.

Not more than a minute later, a hand grabs her and pulls her into the darkness.


End file.
